


Why Survive?

by xxcentaurus (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Heavy Angst, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/xxcentaurus
Summary: In a desolate future, the human race is incapacitated and pushed to near extinction by the hand of a more advanced species. Living in the dystopian remains of society is hopeless and bleak, but at least John has Alexander to help him cope.





	Why Survive?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dystopian_Daydream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dystopian_Daydream/gifts).



> Hey I hope you enjoy the fic I wrote for you! I've never written sci fi before so this was new to me, and I hope I did alright!

The sky is always dark; it’s once brilliant blue essence, suffocated by thick smoke. It’s coughed up from industrial factories, littered across the city, producing destructive weapons from another world. Their ships spew it as well, and with their enormous numbers the sky really had no chance to hold onto it’s pastel and airy atmosphere; the situation was simply as inevitable as the human race’s downfall.  

John sits on the cracked concrete stairs, leading down to the subway— the only place they refuse to go, because their transmissions are drowned out, and the world above ground was theirs anyway. There is no hope here, the majority of survivors knew that. The population had nearly been wiped out, and with far greater technological intelligence, the invaders had undeniable advantages. 

Why fight to live in a world where all odds, and _providence_ itself stands against humanity? Hope dissolved in the first six months, and any of it’s remnants obliterated, wiped away as time pressed on, and the uncertainty of the world cleared. The fog crudely stripped away, and a desolate future stared back in the distance. 

That question lingers now, in the minds of the handful of survivors John lives with in the subway. Many of them struggle with it, wondering if death is a better alternative, if escaping their cruel reality is worth throwing themselves into the unknown. But John already knows his own answer; he’s known it since the beginning, because he has a _reason_ to live. Every morning, when the sun rises, and it’s rays beat relentlessly against heavy smog, and every night, when it retreats beneath the horizon, and the starless sky chokes in darkness, John finds himself doing the same. Because he hasn’t lost everything. As much as he craves the idea of closing his eyes, removing himself from this cruel reality, there’s something that pushes him forward. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

John turns to see Alexander ascending the steep stairs; like light, emerging from the darkest of places, or colour, poured into a purely monochrome image. John allows himself to smile, a small upturn of his lips, as he reaches forward, filled with the sudden desire to hold him in his arms. 

“I was just thinking about you.”  

Alexander sits down, leaning into John’s shoulder. He wraps his arms around him, his fingers gently gripping the back of his sweater, as he holds him in a tight embrace. John inhales deeply, closing his eyes, and thinking about the the days, far in the past, where he’d hold Alexander like this and they didn't have a  care in the world. Lazy weekends in front of the television, or when they’d sleep over at each other’s houses, holding each other at night.

“You’re always thinking of me aren't you?” 

John chuckles at his smugness. “Of course, and I’m always on your mind aren't I?” 

Alexander laughs too, giving John a tight squeeze. “Every second of every day,” he teases. 

“Really, then what are you thinking right now?" 

“I was thinking about how handsome you are,” he pauses for a moment, “and, maybe we could go on a supply run.” 

John threads his fingers through Alexander’s hair, leaning his chin on his shoulder. A supply run would definitely benefit them, they’ve been running low on food, and it’s definitely something necessary for survival, he thinks bitterly.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll go later with Hercules,” John says. 

He lets his lids fall over hazel irises for a moment, breathing deeply, as the frigid wind washes over him in soft gusts. He can almost pretend things are okay— pretend nothing’s changed and he’s sitting on campus with Alexander in his arms. He’s been thinking about the past a lot recently, longing for it, _living_ in it. He can only ever stay there in his dreams though, when his eyes are closed and his mind is at rest. 

“We could go together.” Alexander sighs. “I hate being underground all day.”  
  
John feels sympathy; the subway may be the safest place for Alexander to be, but it was bland and stuffy at times. He couldn't keep him down there forever, as much as he'd liked to. He slowly pulls away, and says, “I guess we could walk around or something.” He shrugs. “We can leave the supply runs the others.” 

He stands, taking Alexander’s hand and helping him to his feet. They’re a little ways away from the city, nearing the end of the subway’s route, but it’s far less populated there, and much safer. 

* * *

“Where are we going?”

“Just for a walk.” John leads them away from the station, and towards a residential neighbourhood. The houses are vacant as many people tried to relocate when the initial invasion happened, leaving behind pantries and cupboards with none perishable goods. John makes a mental note to come back, but for now, he just takes the building’s cracked bricks and smashed windows. 

Alexander squeezes his hand. “I miss how things were.”  
  
“Don’t we all.” 

“We’re never going to have that again.” Alexander pauses for a moment. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve lost everything.”  
  
John inhales sharply, his breath catching in the back of his throat. “I feel like that too sometimes, but I know it’s not true.” 

He stops walking for a moment to turn and take both of Alexander’s hands into his. He holds them to his chest, and lets a small smile tug at the edges of his lips, even though he knows his eyes are glazed with tears. 

“As long as you’re here with me, I can never say I’ve lost everything.” John leans forward to press his lips to Alexander’s forehead. He can't help thinking their heights are perfect for this sort of thing. Alexander standing a few inches shorter than him. “As long as I have you, I have everything I need.”

Exchanges between them are always bittersweet. Romance isn't in the air anymore, it’s not in the dead yellowing grass, or the run down buildings. It doesn't flutter through the wind in parks and nature paths, or shine through lampposts in the night. All those romanticized pleasantries are long forgotten anyway. 

“I love you John, you’re too good for all this.” 

“So are you.” John touches his face, running his thumb along his soft jawline. 

Alexander’s eyes are dull, encircled with darkness. The end of the world could never change his deep brown irises, and John sees the same colour in them today as he did ten years ago when they first met, but it was clear that it could strip them of their determined glow and gentle softness. 

John hates what they've been reduced to, and when Alexander says, “have you ever thought about ending it all,” he realizes so does he. 

“I have,” John says, “but I could never live without you.” 

Alexander’s hand trails over the gun at his hip, and John knows immediately what he’s thinking. Ending it _together_. His heart pounds in his chest, his nervousness coiling around him, as his fingertips brush over his own gun. He wants it so badly; he can almost imagine himself closing his eyes, enclosed in the peace of darkness, with Alexander at his side. Except death has no definition, and could John really throw himself into the unknown, risking losing Alexander forever? 

“I wanted to do it together, then we’d never have to be apart,” Alexander takes his gun from his belt, his hand shaking around the base. “It’ll be better than here, it has to be.” 

John takes a deep breath, filling his constricted lungs with cold air. He shivers. This is terrifying, but at the same time, he hasn't felt this much control over his life in a long time. He slowly removes his gun from his own belt, his hand closing around it with his finger resting hesitantly on the trigger. 

“I feel empowered,” John mumbles, bringing his other hand to graze the smooth metal body of the weapon. It’s rash, and it feels sudden. But its a thought that’s plagued him for a while now, Alexander being the only thing to hold him back. He’s the one suggesting it now though, and John can’t help being swayed. “Let’s do it before fear makes me change my mind.” 

“I promise I’ll find you, wherever we end up.” 

“Don’t break your promise Alexander.” 

“I won’t.” Alexander presses the gun to the side of his head, offering John one last genuine smile. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” John’s breathing is shaky, he’s paralyzed with fear, but his chest is brimming with hope. He reaches for Alexander’s hand, his fingers wrapping tightly around it, as his other hand brings his own gun to his head.

“I’ll see you on the other side.” 

* * *

The sky is a sea of radiant blue, not a single cloud floating by as the sun’s glow illuminates the rebel camp. John brushes his hair out of his face, stepping into his colleague’s tent.

“How is the General’s right hand man on this beautiful day?”

“Just fine my dear Laurens.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos or comment if you enjoyed!


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